Guilty Party
by Icy Stormz
Summary: On a barren platform Draco and Hermione find post-war solace.


Guilty Party 

**Author:** Icy Stormz

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** On a barren platform Draco and Hermione find post-war solace.

**Warning:** Character death and implied R/Hr

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes:** This totally didn't turn out how I originally intended it to.  Big thanks go to James for betaing this.  Inspired by "Maps" by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's.

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 "Wait, they don't love you like I love you" ~ "Maps" – Yeah Yeah Yeah's 

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He stood at the platform in the dead of night.  He was the only person there; revelling in the silence that solitude brought him.  It was a change from the screams and sobs heard on the battlefield and the moans and gasps in the bedroom.  Draco heard heels clicking as someone walked through the barrier.

"Draco?"

The wizard in question remained still and quiet, not bothering to turn and look at the woman who was slowly approaching him.

Even if he weren't the only person on the platform she still would have been able to find him; his striking blond hair gave him away.  It didn't surprise her that he chose not to look at her; he always did seem to refrain from partaking in the obvious.  She made her way towards him, standing a little to the right of him, turning her head to look at him from the corner of her eye.  Sighing, she averted her eyes to the blank stone wall across the train tracks.

"Why aren't you at the party?" She wasn't sure if he asked out of curiosity or to break the suddenly tense silence.

"I grew tired of the constant near-drunken toasts that were being made.  Victory is a double-edged sword, isn't it?  I mean," she didn't allow him to speak, "yes we've won and Voldemort is finally gone, but that has now just blinded the lot of them to the death toll and empty beds within their own homes."

"Everyone needs to find his or her release somehow," he commented.  "Celebration is a form of closure."

"But this is too soon."

"They're merely grieving together.  You should just let them."

She turned to look at him, her brows furrowed in frustration.  "How can you be so nonchalant?  You've lost people too."

"Yes, however, those whom I've lost were never valued.  And don't bother telling me that I'm being a cruel and heartless bastard, Granger," he cut her off before she had a chance to rant at him.  "Go mourn Weasley's death with his family.  Sob stories aren't welcome here."

"How _dare_ you say that?" She asked, scandalized, "He practically saved your arse when Fred was ready to kill you."

"And I thanked him for that."

It was true though.  Draco Malfoy gave his thanks and appreciations when called for, and that was definitely one such occasion.  Seven months into the war, Draco left camp at Hogwarts to do some unfinished and unknown business in Hogsmeade.  Early the next morning the Order received news that George had been slain outside Zonko's.  Fred immediately accused Draco of doing the deed and had the blond man pinned up against a wall with his hand at Draco's throat.  Ron pulled Fred from Draco, and sounded quite like the deceased Mrs Weasley as he reprimanded his brother for being rash.

"You know I killed my father that night," he said after a lengthy pause.

Hermione was taken aback.  "Really?"

"No, I just said that to get a rise out of you," he drawled, turning to look at her.

She glared at him, noting the slight smirk upon his face.

"But yes, I did.  From Hogsmeade I Apparated to a village outside of the Manor where I found my Father groping this woman in an alley, which was a rather cliché scenario, but that's beside the point.  I killed him on the spot."

"And the woman?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I modified her memory," he said simply.

Another pause followed.  Hermione nearly forgot the entire reason as to why she was inclined to find Draco.  "Why didn't you come to the party?"

He shrugged.  "I didn't want to.  I wouldn't have been very welcome."

"You would have," she argued.

"I'm sure I'm appreciated for switching sides and all, but what it all boils down to is that I'm still a slimy Slytherin and a Malfoy to boot."

She shook her head, "You're being ridiculous."

"Possibly, but so are you," he said as he turned around and walked to sit on one of the many benches lining the platform.

Hermione was stunned for a moment.  "How am _I_ ridiculous?" She asked incredulously, following him to stand in front of him.

"Because you're hypocritical," Draco stated, looking her square in the eye.

"Excuse me?"

"You said you didn't want to stay at the party because all those in attendance were blinded by the fact that their loved ones died when in fact _you_ are the one being blinded.  You just don't want to be there because not only does everyone there bring back memories, but the very place the party is being held at reminds you too much of your darling Ronald.  I don't think your reason to leave the party was because people were _toasting_ too often, either," he stated pompously.

Throughout his tirade, Hermione stood in shocked and angered silence.  He had absolutely no right to try and delve into her 'inner psyche' like that.  "Really?" She said angrily, "Well then, because you seem to know my thoughts better than anyone else in this whole world, why do you think I left that party?"  She didn't just raise her voice out of irritation, but the chugging of the oncoming train could be heard nearby.

"You left because too many people were giving you their condolences and because I'm the only one who wouldn't."

"You think highly of yourself, don't you, Malfoy?" She scoffed.

"Only when it's the truth, Granger."

"Well you're wrong."

He arched an eyebrow, "Am I?  If I'm wrong then why are you still here?  Why are you here in the first place?"

The train could be seen around the bend of the platform, the deep blasting of its horn making the ground tremble.

She was silent, but continued to glare at him.  "I'm here…" she took a deep breath, "I'm here because you're here."

Draco's other eyebrow rose to meet the first.  He didn't say anything, allowing her to explain.

"They made their toasts to Dumbledore, Harry, Remus and even Neville, but not you.  I'm sure they would have if you were there, but the fact of the matter is, they didn't." Hermione was practically shouting to make herself heard as the train blew past the both of them, making their robes whip around their bodies.  "You were so involved and integral that you should have been recognized; especially today.  Which made me realize, they don't love you like I love you."

The train was pulling out of the station, and Hermione shouted loud enough to be heard over the noise of the retreating train.

Her spiel was followed by a pregnant silence.  He stood up as if to leave, which made Hermione feel guilty.  He didn't leave though.  He stood in front of her so they were less than a foot apart from each other.  They were so close Draco's breath caressed her face.  His head descended to kiss her.  Right before their lips touched Hermione breathed, "Happy Birthday Draco."


End file.
